La valse d'Amelie, recommended reading companion by Dhanush.
It follows him around. He is very happy when it does. His shadow falls over so many things and still stays around. The other day it fell on a big bus. He shuddered to think that the shadow will go away with the bus but it stayed. He shuddered anyway.
Something was burning. The flames made his shadow on the road weaker. It was wavering, as if signalling an end. He wanted to douse the fire out and save the shadow. He picked up a bucket of cold water. It made his hands numb and it was too heavy, maybe he should ask for help. No, he could do it alone. He just wanted the shadow to stay. He shuddered to think of the fire. The fire died but the road became darker where water hit it so the shadow was gone. He shuddered anyway.
Water evaporates. The shadow comes back. It plays with him. Sometimes it falls on himself. For an instant he sees no light, for the the next he is blinded by it. This goes on along the whims of the shadow. He cannot stop it. He wants the shadow to know this makes him dizzy. Why does it do this? Someday he won't be able to take it and will fall.
He often wants the sun to stay and not set at all or the shadow will die. He wants to talk to his shadow. The shadow doesn't speak. It cannot speak they say, how will it? He often wonders if the shadow is dead. No. It was smart enough to be with him and play with him and tease him and disappear and reappear. It had to be alive. But then, could it speak?
His phone buzzed. He is very anxious when the phone buzzes next to his head. He doesn't know why. It was Mother. "Yes, everything is good! Enchanting!"
The phone buzzed again. He shuddered to think if the phone knew the shadow. Maybe they were the same thing. He was going crazy. Was it the cold that made him shudder? The phone buzzed and he thought it was the shadow. Yes! Now he knew. He could talk to the shadow on the phone. That was possible. But it wasn't.
A little music box plays Ode to Joy. How happy he is to own it! It is blue in colour. Just like the shadow is on the walls of his room back home. Someone trampled over the music box. He will repair it soon, but he doesn't know how. Maybe he will buy a new one. But he isn't earning yet. Music boxes are precious.
He loves the shadow. He likes how it falls on leaves and flowers and disappears between them. He used to believe it will always come back again. It always had. It had been with him for as long as he could remember. It had kept him warm and safe. Sometimes he fears the shadow will not return. Was it tired? Did it feel shackled by the weight of that silver chain around its neck? The shadow had a heart. He should talk to it. It was time. If the shadow listened he will ask it to stay. The shackles are just trinkets, don't be scared he'll say. Or are they?
He dislikes the evening. The shadow grows longer and more distant. Soon the sun will go and take it away. He wants to talk to the shadow before it disappears for the night. No. He will scare the shadow like this. He loves it so much, if it is scared it might not come back. He should wait. The stars are too feeble and the moon just as whimsical as the shadow, but he must wait. What should he do? He will try to sleep. He could perhaps dream of the shadow and see if it will talk there. But sleep is just as whimsical.
The phone buzzes again. He shudders. Many people know the shadow. Some of them warn him against it. They say shadows are cruel. Some say he is cruel and the shadow must feel so scared of him. Maybe it feels lonely. He must always be around. How could I throw cold water at it? they ask. How could I not? he says. There was a fire!
Nobody knows the shadow but him. It is his shadow. And he loves it.
The buzzing phone often scares him. It also gives him hope of a way to the shadow. It's complicated business, this fear and hope.
He just wishes for the shadow to stay. When he talks to it he will tell how he feels. The shadow is a good companion. Was he bad? Does the shadow hate being his shadow? Is it very upset? He will arrange for a mirror. A big mirror everywhere around him so the shadow becomes an image. Then it will be happy. He wants to keep the shadow happy. The shadow understands, of course it does. It is his shadow, after all.
Night falls. Someone turns the fluorescent on. There it is again, right there on the wall.
It follows him around. He is very happy when it does. His shadow falls over so many things and still stays around. The other day it fell on a big bus. He shuddered to think that the shadow will go away with the bus but it stayed. He shuddered anyway.
Something was burning. The flames made his shadow on the road weaker. It was wavering, as if signalling an end. He wanted to douse the fire out and save the shadow. He picked up a bucket of cold water. It made his hands numb and it was too heavy, maybe he should ask for help. No, he could do it alone. He just wanted the shadow to stay. He shuddered to think of the fire. The fire died but the road became darker where water hit it so the shadow was gone. He shuddered anyway.
Water evaporates. The shadow comes back. It plays with him. Sometimes it falls on himself. For an instant he sees no light, for the the next he is blinded by it. This goes on along the whims of the shadow. He cannot stop it. He wants the shadow to know this makes him dizzy. Why does it do this? Someday he won't be able to take it and will fall.
He often wants the sun to stay and not set at all or the shadow will die. He wants to talk to his shadow. The shadow doesn't speak. It cannot speak they say, how will it? He often wonders if the shadow is dead. No. It was smart enough to be with him and play with him and tease him and disappear and reappear. It had to be alive. But then, could it speak?
His phone buzzed. He is very anxious when the phone buzzes next to his head. He doesn't know why. It was Mother. "Yes, everything is good! Enchanting!"
The phone buzzed again. He shuddered to think if the phone knew the shadow. Maybe they were the same thing. He was going crazy. Was it the cold that made him shudder? The phone buzzed and he thought it was the shadow. Yes! Now he knew. He could talk to the shadow on the phone. That was possible. But it wasn't.
A little music box plays Ode to Joy. How happy he is to own it! It is blue in colour. Just like the shadow is on the walls of his room back home. Someone trampled over the music box. He will repair it soon, but he doesn't know how. Maybe he will buy a new one. But he isn't earning yet. Music boxes are precious.
He loves the shadow. He likes how it falls on leaves and flowers and disappears between them. He used to believe it will always come back again. It always had. It had been with him for as long as he could remember. It had kept him warm and safe. Sometimes he fears the shadow will not return. Was it tired? Did it feel shackled by the weight of that silver chain around its neck? The shadow had a heart. He should talk to it. It was time. If the shadow listened he will ask it to stay. The shackles are just trinkets, don't be scared he'll say. Or are they?
He dislikes the evening. The shadow grows longer and more distant. Soon the sun will go and take it away. He wants to talk to the shadow before it disappears for the night. No. He will scare the shadow like this. He loves it so much, if it is scared it might not come back. He should wait. The stars are too feeble and the moon just as whimsical as the shadow, but he must wait. What should he do? He will try to sleep. He could perhaps dream of the shadow and see if it will talk there. But sleep is just as whimsical.
The phone buzzes again. He shudders. Many people know the shadow. Some of them warn him against it. They say shadows are cruel. Some say he is cruel and the shadow must feel so scared of him. Maybe it feels lonely. He must always be around. How could I throw cold water at it? they ask. How could I not? he says. There was a fire!
Nobody knows the shadow but him. It is his shadow. And he loves it.
The buzzing phone often scares him. It also gives him hope of a way to the shadow. It's complicated business, this fear and hope.
He just wishes for the shadow to stay. When he talks to it he will tell how he feels. The shadow is a good companion. Was he bad? Does the shadow hate being his shadow? Is it very upset? He will arrange for a mirror. A big mirror everywhere around him so the shadow becomes an image. Then it will be happy. He wants to keep the shadow happy. The shadow understands, of course it does. It is his shadow, after all.
Night falls. Someone turns the fluorescent on. There it is again, right there on the wall.
